Kilimanjaro
by Eleawhore
Summary: A day in the life of Canada. Well, more like half a day but, meh. A little back story, some thoughts of others at the meeting and a practice for me to see if I can writ as Canada. Read at your own leisure.


Because I'm always alone, people automatically assume I'm lonely.  
There's a big difference between being alone and being lonely, but people have already forgotten about me by the time I try to explain this. Its not like that anyway, I've grown accustom to the quiet of my own thoughts and Kuma, Kumo... Kilimanjaro is more than enough company than I'm ever going to need.  
Besides, you can't be lonely if you've never experienced life surrounded by family and peers.

So the world meeting had started round about forty-five minuets ago and I was highly considering leaving, seeing as the most we've accomplished is to show up to the right room. France and England have already thrown multiple swings at each other and America has long since stopped trying to intervene, so he's now complaining to Japan about the ending to an Anime series he's been watching online.  
I'm just waiting for a vain to pop on Germany's forehead and for him to restore the order to the meeting so we can actuary more on and get something resolved. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like that's going to happen any time soon as Italy is taking up all his attention by insisting on sitting on his lap, which the German is determined not to let him. 'This is not the right time for this, Feliciano.' He insists.

And then there's me. Canada. 'Who?' You may ask if you're one of the nations sat in this room. Which I think is highly unfair, seeing as I know all of them by both human and country name. But hey, it's not like I can do anything to make them remember me. Shouting does no good and even talking to them is hopeless. Once I was trying to have a conversation with England and Germany asked him to refine from talking to his 'magical friends' during the meeting. England stood up for me, even France joined in, and for once almost everyone in the room actuary took notice of my existence for a whole meeting. _A whole meeting. _Yeah, I know, you're probably laughing in my face now but I don't care, I doesn't happen often so I will always remember occasions when it does.

Kilimanjaro started to claw on my leg as he became restless and hungry but I had to ignore it. It's not like I'm going to walk out to get him a snack. Then again, who'll notice? Plus the meeting was getting about as far a fish climbing a tree. Regardless, I couldn't bring my self to. 'Hey, hey, you.' Kilimanjaro started to assault my suit demanding my attention. I simply tap his nose like you would a disobedient cat and continue doodling on my notebook. 'Hey, what's-your-face, Hey.' He nudges my arm, causing me to draw a line through the doodle. With my patience as short as England's, I pick the polar bear up and sat him by my feet giving him a look of disapproval.

With one problem out of the way, I looked over at the rest of the rooms occupants causing another. Germany was no where near done with his argument with Italy which gave me no hope of much needed order. Now see, if I had a big, loud, strong voice that didn't stutter like my current one, I could step into Germany's shoes. As crazy as it sounds I know I could. I just _know_. Maybe then would have been a good time to consider voice lessons or whatever their called but why bother? It cant solve you being shy can it now?

As Kilimanjaro started to unlace my shoes, Romano, Spain and Belgium came crashing though the entrance all looking a little worse for wear. Belgium's headband made her hair stick out awkwardly around her ears, her make-up also looked a rushed as lines of foundation left unblended masked her jaw and chin. Both Romano's and Spain's shirt were crinkled, and Romano had left his hair to do its own thing as normally the wavy mess would have been strightened out before it could be seen in public. Now it slightly resembled Greece's.  
Belgium blushed and cleared her throat quietly before running off to join Hungary who was gawking at her, probably already wondering if she had the supplies to fix her appearance. With Spain in hand, Romano was pulling him over in my directing pouting furiously. Luckily, I believe he had no intention on sitting on me like some have done.

I and the Italian had sparked a very unexpected friendship a little while ago. It's nothing great, its not very personal or _friendly _quite frankly but it's more than I could have hoped for. This little ship is in that still rather awkward stage. Still getting to know each other, embarrassing ourselves, having to start a conversation by asking how the other is (even when we both know how the dialogue will plan out) and yes those awkward pauses are very, very, _very_ frequent. But from what I know of, this bit could be the part that makes or brakes our ship sailing on stormy waters.

"Hey." I greet the pair as they take their seats and organise their notes. Spain turns away from us and starts talking with France about something he and Romano got up to on the weekend.  
Still sorting through his suit case he grunts in reply before asking if I was well.  
"Aright I suppose, what happened with you?"  
"Anto-Fucking-o." He set the case back on the floor and crosses his legs on the chair, swivelling it around to face me. "Set our alarm to what it should be on our days off. Idiota." He runs a hand through his hair before groaning and burring his head in his palms. "I look, and feel, like shit." S'not so bad," I shrug "You just look like Greece with shorter hair I guess." He makes a 'tsk' noise and looks over at the sleeping Greek on the opposite end of the table. "I don't know whether to feel insulted or complimented." We share a half hearted chuckle and our conversation ends as Germany cleared his throat.

"Okay, so now vat everyone is here," He gives the late comers a deadly look to which Romano poke his tough out at "We can begin the meeting." He continues to list the topics we're supposed to address during our time here. As of late, the meetings locations have been passed between America and Germany but this time we're in France strangely. America insists we hold it as his house permanently so we can all 'have a killer time!', but Germany takes control and demands we get things done. Personally I think it would be better to hold it at Russia's, I mean, nobody is going to mess around in fear they get locked in the basement for the week long meeting. Which I can say has happened. Poor China...

Three hours later, we're excused. We managed to struggled through some small talk of the EU but nobody was really in the mood. I took some unnecessary notes that'll probably get thrown in the pile on my desk at home to collect dust for eternity but at least they, along with the doodling, help kept the time passing. England and France got into yet another fist fight, miraculously no one came out with any broken bones. I can't count on my hands the number of times they've come out with a broken nose or a broken rib. Way back when I called them 'Daddy' and 'Papa' their fighting was kept to a minimum. It was usually verbal assault if anything. But not to hurt our 'innocent ears' they would change the swearing into child friendly words and argue in song. Yes, you read that correctly. They would sing out their anger.  
"Why didn't you get the milk~ like I asked~?  
"They where out~ Why didn't you get any this morning~?"  
"I was a tad busy with. O~ I~ Don't~ Know~ LOOKING AFTER MATTIE AND AL, YOU FUDDY DUDDY~!"

After we all piled out the door, we were literary climbing over each other to get out, Romano invited me to go drinking with him, Spain and a couple others. I declined as it was the first day of our trip so there would plenty of opportunity to go later on in the week. Besides, with the amount those two drink I was pretty sure we'd all leave with a hang over that'll last the whole trip. I decided to retire to my room, order room service and watch something on the television for the rest of the night. I was starving to say the least so I wolfed the meal down the moment it got in my grasp.  
Fortunately I remember to get a little something for Kilimanjaro so he wasn't feeding off of my plate like he would at home. He had decided to eat on the carpet and after he finished he laid across my feet, warming them up. I can't see how it could be comfortable in the slightest to lay there but he does it regardless. I wiggle on of my feet trying to determine if he was awake and to also try and get the feeling back into my foot. "Kilimanjaro, are you awake?" He stretches and swipes my foot with his paw. "That not my name, stupid. Its Kumajirou." He stands and raises his arms for me to pick him up. "You always forget who I am, why can't I do the same?"  
Truth be told, I do know his name. I just pretend I can't remember it just to get my own back. I know its cruel and I know it's not his fault but.. I just get annoyed and take it out on him I guess.

I remember the day we met. England had locked himself down in the basement for nearly the whole morning and some awfully strange noises where come out from down there. America was petrified, not that he'll admit it. And, all of a sudden he came running up the stairs, hair ruffled and full of static. 'Matthew! Close your eyes! I've got a surprise!' He was giddy. I hid my eyes with my hands, making sure not to peek and England set a small box with a cloth draped over the top on the coffee table. 'Ta-da!' he pulled of the cloth to reveal Kumajirou sat in a small cage with a ribbon on top. America was far more intrigued then I and pushed me out of the way to get a better look at the bear. 'Who are you?' was the first thing Kuma asked and America made a damn sure Kuma knew who he was, and how much of a hero he was going to be when he grows up. 'Just like Big brother England!' He told the bear.  
England never said why he brought Kuma to life, he was just a bear France gave me on my birthday and I had not attachment like America did to Boston the bunny anyway. But I guess now he gave me Kuma so I would always have a friend. Behind those caterpillar eyebrows and unfriendly manor, he does care about us. Well, behind closed doors at least.

My eye started to sting and feel heavy indicating it was time for bed. With a yawn, I held Kuma like you would a baby and carried him over to my bed. The hotels unused crisp, white sheets were cold against my arms but with Kuma snuggled into my chest, our warmth soon spread to the entire bed. "Good night Kilimanjaro..." I pressed a kiss to his fury head and he grumbled: "My names Kuma...Kumajirou.."  
"You're starting to sound like me." I chuckled.

O0O0o0O0o0O0o

So, Yeah. Just a little Canada practice because well, he's fricking adorable. Also, I have a slight thing for Friendly!Romana (RomanoXCanada)  
Okay, well, Enna out.


End file.
